


121U

by yutopias



Series: Remember Us: Youth Pt 2 [2]
Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Shameless Smut, Smut, badboy!sungjin, but he doesn't meant to be, he just really loves brian, sungjin's an asshole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-26 16:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17144984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yutopias/pseuds/yutopias
Summary: He didn’t cry anymore. It’s not worth his tears, but maybe the strings of the bass do more of the mellow weeping these days.





	1. Chapter 1

The door to Jaehyung’s apartment opens with a slight creak and Younghyun’s gut feeling is that he’s already fucked something up. Jaebum’s staring at him, scanning him up and down--he looks like he’s going to laugh or something. 

“Younghyun,” is all Jaebum says, in the tone normally used to speaking to tragically injured puppies or children.

“What?” Younghyun asks, stepping inside.

Everyone else is already there--from the looks of it, they’ve already started the Friday night fun without him. It’s fine with Younghyun, considering the party doesn't really start once he walks in, but rather slows its pace so they can explain the rules of a new drinking game they wanted to try out. Jinyoung takes one look at him and lets out a howl of laughter that either means he’s drunk beyond recognition or that Younghyun’s done something especially ridiculous. 

This doesn't bode too well. 

“Khakis, Younghyun, really?” he cackles, and Younghyun glances down at his legs. 

“Uh…”

“Younghyun! You made it!” he hears someone call out, and his heart races in his chest. 

“Hey,” Younghyun says, swallowing once. “Wonpil.”

Wonpil looks like he’s on his way to getting messed up drunk by the end of the night if the red tint of his cheeks and the shine of his eyes is anything to base anything off o.f He’s smiling a big smile right at Younghyun, and he is, as usual, devastatingly adorable; although the blonde hair added an irresistable flair of innocent sex appeal to his look. Wonpil is talented at not realizing how cute he actually is, or where his alcohol levels lie. He goes a little too hard a little too fast, ending up worse off than everyone else but not early enough where he’s the only one who can’t make decisions. Fortunately, Jaehyung comes in at just about the right time.

“Younghyun,” says Jaehyung, draping an arm around Wonpil’s shoulders and scanning him up and down. “We’ve gotta get you into some new clothes, you look like one of those old guys who work at G-Market.”  

Younghyun’s face starts to burn, partially due to embarassment, but mainly because Jae’s talking casually about undressing him while wearing one of those white muscle tees, exposing his biceps and a good bit of pectoral muscle through the armhole. Jae, in contrast to everyone else, seems to have three livers--he can drink everyone under the table, so the responsibility of driving home usually fell on his well-built shoulders.

“I didn't bring anything else, though,” Younghyun says, like he’s normally supposed to have an extra pair of anything else but khakis. 

“Jesus Christ, Kang,” says a new voice and Younghyun turns to see one of their roommates, Mark, peering from the doorframe. He has no shirt on and some black sweats. “There’s no way you're going out looking like that. Come, I think we’re about the same height.”

“I'm five foot eleven, Mark,” Younghyun responds, “I’d think I'd fit into Jae’s clothes before yours-” 

“Well then, I guess we’re borrowing some of his clothes,” Mark says. “Jae Park! Can Brian borrow some clothes?” 

“Yeah!”

“Are these really that bad?” he whispers to himself. He doesn't mind borrowing the clothes from Jae, not at all, but then the thought or wearing Jae’s pants and thinking about his legs and how strong his hands are and--

“Sorry Hyun,” Youngjae says, “but they're hideous. Closet raid!”

Jinyoung shoots up from the couch and, as everyone else tries to follow behind them, they’re quickly rebuffed, despite Jae’s protests that it’s, “my closet!” and that he should be able to “go in as he pleased.” Younghyun’s glad the two are good at steamrolling. He wasn't sure if he could stop himself from popping a very obvious boner in front of three of his best friends, two of which he might have a crush on, which is dangerous since he’s getting undressed.

He’s not hiding that he’s attracted to men--no, not at all, everyone already knows that he’s pansexual. So is Jae, and Wonpil is bisexual and the fact that Jinyoung infrequently flutters in and out of Jaebum and Youngjae’s relationship is not a secret. The thing is, though, Younghyun’s new to all this--to this conservatory, to this life, to this friend group--and to all the not so safe for work thoughts that built up in his head that decided to spill out now of all times. They've been pouring out in many different ways, since he doesn't have to worry about people walking in on him either.

But another thing that worries him is that, yes, they made space for him in their friend group. He knows they want him there, but he still doesn't feel like he fits in. He feels like if the last piece of a puzzle got printed with extra stuff so it fits, but you've got to really bend it to do so. He just doesn't want to make things weird. Letting Wonpil and Jae know that he constantly has these weird sexual dreams about them seems like a sure-fire way to make everything awkward.

So, not for the first time, he's glad his poker face is well honed. 


	2. Chapter 2

Younghyun learns he fits pretty well in Jae’s jeans when Jinyoung runs a hand over the swell of his ass and gives it a smack. Jinyoung and Youngjae both deemed the clothes a good thing, so he’s content with his newfound presentability.  His polo is also discarded in favor of a purple button up he’s wearing with a black t-shirt underneath.

“I love that shirt,”  Youngjae says,”Brings out your eyes.”

“Yeah thanks,”  Younghyun smiles and Youngjae laughs as he wraps his arm around Younghyun’s shoulder. 

“Hell yeah, now we’re talking,” Jae says approvingly, “Alright, now that we’re able to be seen in public with this guy without someone barfing--time to go before we’re late.”   

Mark groans at being left behind, but he has a midterm on Monday and needs the extra study time; he’ll be there in spirit and Jackson swears he’ll drink and extra beer for him. And so, dressed head to toe in clothes that aren’t even his, they find themselves on the train going to Younghyun’s very first concert. 

The fact that he’d never been to a concert might sound peculiar, but then when you realize his father was none other than the legendary lawyer: Kang Younghwan, well, it made more sense. 

They’re not close at all.  But not because Younghwan was distant or anything of the sort; Younghwan Kang had been an overbearing nightmare since Younghyun was born, and it only got worse when Younghyun’s IQ increased. He was a natural thinker, a natural solver--a natural arguer, which his father took interest in. 

His father had plans for him, grand plans for the Kang family to have every son in the law business, until he could say that every Kang from his great-great-great-great-great grandfather to his current born kept this weird family legacy going. Personally, Younghyun doesn’t think anyone else is going to give two shits, but the old man keeps trying.

Unfortunately for Younghwan, Younghyun never wanted that. 

His intellect was a valid part of his life that he knew everyone would look at, but his passion lied in music. The very passion his father tried to snuff out by taking it away from him when he was younger--by forcing him to study until he was exhausted, by only allowing him to do mathletes and other intellectual after school activities. Maybe the smoke screen that his father had created had worn out way quicker than he’d expected because when his father barred him from doing music-related activities, he’d find a way to do them. Maybe the realization that he’d been groomed to be the perfect puppet, less of an individual and more of a mouthpiece for his father’s obsession with bloodline, surrounded by the peers and colleagues that adored Younghwan Kang and hardly knew Younghyun Kang, broke the illusion for Younghyun. 

After everything he’d been through: packing up and leaving Goyang for Canada, leaving everything he knew behind just to have to force himself to come back and live up to his father’s harsh expectations of him.  Never sticking to one place in his home country either--Younghyun wasn’t about that life. And he fell in love, just as any other person would do, to music. He fell in love with the tender, mournful and impactful sound of the guitar--bass specifically. And he’d gone out and bought one with his father’s money when he was in Canada, waiting for the scolding that eventually followed. But he didn’t care. It was the same bass he picked up and played, behind closed doors, that reminded him of Canada--of Terry and good memories before he was dragged back to South Korea in the name of keeping the Kang legacy alive. 

He didn’t cry anymore. It’s not worth his tears, but maybe the strings of the bass do more of the mellow weeping these days.  

When it came time for him to apply to colleges, his father had pushed--no,  _ dragged _ \--him towards the schools with the prestigious law programs, the famous alumni, the  _ connections _ . But, as most scheming children with overbearing parents did, he applied to a small conservatory in Busan--a small school across the country from the Kang Law Firm and the sprawling Kang estate. 

And, of course, he got into the conservatory. Before Younghwan even realized what was happening, Younghyun had packed up his bass and caught a train across the country. He wasn’t quite sure if he was accepted purely due to his name, but he was more than determined to prove he belonged there, now that he was staying.

University, as it turns out, is amazing. It's not just the freedom of being away from home for the first time; it's the actual ability to be his own person without the paranoia and fear of who around him is watching. He can stay up late, or sleep in. He can enjoy whatever he wanted without worrying about if it’ll be ripped from him later. He can have real friends now. And even if they shit on his khakis, they care, they like him; and not because he's a Kang. 

They care so much, in fact, that they weren't having it when Younghyun had told them he'd never been to a concert before. Of course, there were multiple factors as to why--father, blah blah blah--but he showed reluctance to seeing a show in a club in the city on a Thursday. But one of their friends will be playing tonight, so everyone wants to go. 

Younghyun’s never even met him. But then Wonpil had said, in his sad voice, “I understand,” and Youngjae had deflated. Jinyoung had stolen his back up strings and refused to give them back until Younghyun agreed and Jae--Jae had done the puppy dog eyes at him, so there was no way he could say no. 

He’s never gone to any underground shows like this one at all, his father had been very careful to keep him away from riffraff or unworthy lowlives--all in the name of making Younghyun a lawyer. But he made up for it by taking him to lecture after lecture.

It hadn’t interested him in the slightest, however. He knew he wouldn’t fit in--after all, who is Younghyun other than the son of Younghwan? But, sitting on the train with the people he cared about the most,  he didn’t feel unwanted. He didn’t feel like another carbon copy of his father. 

He might’ve not been too sure where he belonged, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be here. 


	3. Chapter 3

They get there and Younghyun knows why they wanted him to change.

Even with the new clothes, he feels like he stands out by not wearing any pieces of clothing that had rips in them--artfully or not, he noticed everyone in the venue had some sort of ripped something. He really felt as if he needed someone to rip something on his body: his jeans, like Jae, Jinyoung and Wonpil's, his shirt, like Youngjae's or his jacket.

“So do we get backstage? Are we, like, with the band or something?” Jinyoung asks.

Jae laughs. “No way dude,” he says, “when I told him we were coming he told me--” he snarls in an octave lower than his own, “Oh great, soccer mom Wonpil and her children are coming to watch. Fuck off, I don't need you guys here.”

Wonpil laughs. “Yep, definitely Sungjin alright.”

“He's gonna be so pumped when he sees us!”

Younghyun stays silent, unsure of whether or not Wonpil and Jae are joking. It dawns in him that he's never met this friend before--even though they all talk so much about this man with a mix of fondness and exasperation. “So your friend, he plays guitar?” Younghyun asks and he raises his voice because, finally, they're at the venue--it's loud and reeks of booze, not super crowded but filling up fast. Jinyoung zooms off to buy more drinks, his hair a dark landmark in the midst of the crowd as the ret of them make their way to the stage,

“Yeah!” Jae says, “It’s a new band for him. I'm interested to see how he’ll do.”

“Huh?”

Wonpil shakes his head. “Sungjin’s hotheaded, he doesn't have the best record of staying in a band. He's kind of volatile about music.”

“He's an ass,” Jae adds, “but he's our ass, and we wouldn't replace him for the world.”  
Younghyun really wants to ask why they're friends but, again, stays quiet. It's none of his business.

Jinyoung returns, arms filled with beer, and trades them for cash. Jae squeezes Wonpil’s cheeks with one hand, and Wonpil giggles innocently. “Pace yourself this time,” Jae asks and Wonpil beams.

“Of course. I'm great at pacing,” he replies. Youngjae’s beer is nearly spewed out onto Jaebum from laughing so much and Wonpil glances over at him. “What? What, I'm good at pacing.”

Younghyun realizes he's smiling when Wonpil smiles back and looks away, suddenly feeling all awkward inside. He hasn't been offered a drink because they know he won't have one bit it does remind him again if he’s the sixth wheel--he isn't quite sure what Jae and Wonpil have going on, but they have something.

The lights start to dim and people behind them start pushing up against Younghyun. He's glad the group has made it to the front--he has a clear view of the stage and it feels less claustrophobic that way.

“Sungjin fighting!” Jinyoung yells, as multicoloured lights sweep and strobe across the stage. It's a small stage--no fancy curtains or a wall of speakers, but it feels more alive. It seems as if they're local favourites--everyone in the crowd goes wild when when they get on stage. A guitarist, one with long black hair and a leather skater skirt, an excitable smile on her face; the bassist is her polar opposite: short brown hair, red shorts and red Converse shoes. They keyboardist a tall, slender man who draws a lot of noise from the crowd with a smile and a wave.

But the center mic remains empty.

The others begin to warm up--electric guitar winding through riffs, keyboard through scales, and bass thrumming. The crowd hollers.

Still no center mic.

“You don't think they've already dumped him, right Jae?” Wonpil asks.

They have some sort of weird, unspoken signal because the random noise pollution on stage tops. One low chord strikes out from the dark haired guitarist and she lets it hang, blanketing the crowd who begins to shout soon after.

Younghyun starts to feel it in his stomach--the hum in the air, the thump of the drums mixing together inside of him. The lead guitarist glances at him, and a real smile lights her face.

One last person enters the stage, with an acoustic in his hand.

“Here we go,” he hums into the mic--he's got a low, honey voice that matches with his acoustic. The guy fires off next, his instrument adding to the frantic sound. “Thank you for coming out tonight. Are you ready to rock guys?”

This guy has to be the lead singer. He’s got a riot of long brown hair covering one of his eyes. Multiple piercings in each year. Black jeans with rips and an Iron Maiden shirt--standard douche cut. But that's forgiven.

Fuck, Younghyun is glad he came out.

“Jeez, he always needs to make an entrance,” Youngjae smiles.

Oh, Younghyun thinks. “Is that Sungjin?"

“Yeah,” Jae smiles. “That's Sungjin.”


End file.
